Rapture: The Bellatrix and Rodolphus Story
by Laid Bare
Summary: Insanity has never looked so seductive…  The collision of two sinister sadists. The blossoming of a barbaric love.  The Lestrange love story.  R&R - Language and Mature Scenes  HP Taming of the Shrew
1. Prologue: A Deal

Prologue – A Deal

June 1969

The soft clinking of glass mingled with the rise and fall of laugher, the air thick with serpent-like coils of smoke burning from the ends of large cigars, held between sturdy lips, beefy fingers pulling them away to billow out a large cloud of grey smoulder. The small room was cluttered with an array of men, ages varying yet there was the same degree of wealth that brushed them all.

The dim lighting shrouded the view of many faces, the low-level of voices masking over the harsh, excited whispers of those who conferred towards the shadowed corners of the room. In such a corner, sat an ageing wizard, his lined face still held the element of handsomeness that it had decades before. Thick black hair veined with grey shone against the orange glow of the fireplace, casting of shadows along the line of a haunting jaw and a slightly crooked nose, the dent in its bridge marring what would have be called as perfection. Hooded lids framed the pale blue eyes that peered out almost unseeingly into the room, one hand grasping around the fine glass of amber liquid, the other holding on loosely to his wand.

Time passed, thought it was hard to estimate just how much. Within such four walls, time could become meaningless, where wives and children could be forgotten, homes and jobs a distant memory. Such a place could be dangerous to a weak man, one that could not resist the power such a room could offer. It was not offices and courts where man's business was dealt, but here in rooms like these, Men's Clubs, where money was exchanged over a glass of brandy and a good cigar.

The sitting wizard swirled at his half drank brandy, absently amused at how it had gotten to become half empty. Or was it half full? He mused, a small smile twitching his lips. Was it merely his own pessimism that was creeping up on him, casting a morbid mood on his thoughts?

"Cygnus," A voice greeted, rousing the sitting man from his curious thoughts. Above him stood two men, not unlike each other, yet there was enough of a difference to tell apart the two. Both held the same thick chestnut hair that gleamed the slightest hint of red, the same sharp dark brown eyes. The one that spoke was the eldest, his frame filled out in broad shoulders, arms corded with thick muscle, only to give way to a narrow waist and long lean legs. His manhood showed on his face, the russet beard that framed his lips and the under shadow of his cheekbones. "Rodolphus," Cygnus Black greeted, his frosty gaze turning towards the younger of the two. "Rabastan." The youngest, a mere boy with a fresh, untouched face that was thinner, perhaps more feminine than his bother's, nodded back in return.

There was a moment of awkwardness, that long pause where Cygnus Black languished in the power he had, watching the two younger men stand, waiting for permission to sit. Finally, he granted it. "Do sit," he waved his wand airily towards the two chairs that were in front of him. "Drink boys?" he asked once they were settled. The eldest, Rodolphus, smirked, leaning lazily back against the rest of his armchair, his frame seeming to swallow up the piece of furniture. "Don't mind if I do," he waved loftily to one of the suspended trays that drifted around the room, bearing an assorted array of intoxicating drinks, some hissed almost dangerously with a vile seeping unknown substance. Rodolphus took such a drink, looking mildly amused as a pungent helix of smoke rose out from its jade green content, before grinning over at his younger brother. "Want one?" he asked, absently swirling his drink over the surface with his wand.

"No," Rabastan eyed his brother, than the drink, his expression starting to look troubled. When he offered no more of an explanation, Rodolphus turned back to Cygnus Black. "I am under the impression that you have reconsidered my offer?" The words were pleasantly bland, void of any emotion whatsoever. One could be mistaken as to think the three gentlemen were discussing the weather.

Over the rim of his glass, Rodolphus Lestrange watched as Cygnus' jaw bulged, the muscle there working in a jutting motion as he chewed over his words. Finally, with tight, clamped lips, did he nodded, a hash movement of the head that conveyed his displeasure.

The eldest Lestrange took a gulp of his drink, rolling the stem of the glass between his forefinger and thumb. "So it is agreed. I pay off your debts and I exchange, I have the lovely pleasure of marrying Andromeda?" Rodolphus watched as the elder man's face turned a curious shade of scarlet, the hand around his wand tightening. "No?" he asked, studying Cygnus, brows knitting together.

"No," Black agreed, draining the last of his drink, grimacing slightly as its bitter aftertaste. "Not Andromeda." He watched as both boys' brows rose in question, before exchanging an almost suspicious look between them. "Oh?" Rodolphus said lightly, just as Rabastan asked, "Who then?" They both watched as the older man fidgeted under their scrutiny, his pale skin turning high in colour, yet stubbornly continued to meet them square in the eye. "My eldest daughter – Bellatrix."

Rabastan blanched at the sound of the uttered name, yet it was Rodolphus who continued to look pleasantly interested. "I believe that our deal was that I am to marry Andromeda, not her elder sister." He watched as a sudden flair of fire, of defiance flashed through Cygnus Black's eyes.

"Andromeda is too young," Black insisted. "She is only sixteen. Bella has just finished her schooling, she's old enough for marriage." His pale eyes flickered between the two, his temper flaring. "What's wrong with my Bella?" he demanded, challenging either to answer. Instead, Cygnus watched as Rodolphus turned to his younger brother. "I believe you are acquainted with Miss Bellatrix, Rabastan?" The eldest Lestrange grinned wickedly, his dark eyes flashing. The two men watched the remaining colour in Rabastan Lestranges' face drained away, leaving him ashen. When he refused to speak, Rodolphus' brows rose higher. "Would you say that Mr Black is offering a fair deal for such an amount of money?"

Rabastan shook his head vehemently, "He should be paying _you_ to take that witch off of his hands, not her other way round." Rodolphus Lestrange turned back to Mr Black, no longer looking amused. "I do not like to be made a fool out of, Mr Black," he said at last, voice cold. His face, once seen as roguishly handsome was now twisted into something dark, threatening. Suddenly, Rodolphus rose, draining the last of his concoction of a drink. Rabastan followed suit, rising from his seat at a slower pace, his gangly frame looking awkward compared the fluid grace of his brother.

Rodolphus nodded courteously towards Cygnus, yet there was nothing polite about dark swirl of his eyes. "Goodbye, Mr Black." Rabastan nodded awkwardly, almost in apology for his brother, or perhaps it was his comment on Bellatrix Black. Feeling desperate, Cygnus Black rose, his expression troubled, torn. "Wait," he said, voice low so that it would not be heard by neighbouring ears. When Rodolphus paused, his gaze looking over his shoulder at the other man with a darkly intrigued expression, did Cygnus Black continue in haste.

"Give Bella a year," he said, his expression urging, eyes almost wild as the words left his mouth. "Just until Andromeda is of age. If you still wish to marry her," Black sucked in a deep breath, looking pained. "Then you may."

A wary expression covered the face of Rodolphus Lestrange, a guarded one. "And what," he asked, tone sardonic. "Is expected of me during my time with dear Bellatrix?" He watched as Black winced, his cheeks turning an odd shade of berry red, blue eyes hard as chips as he glared back into the younger man's eyes. "You court her," he hissed, his gaze flickered towards the younger Lestrange and then back. "Regardless of what you think of my daughter, she will be treated with respect, they all will, until you place a ring on her finger."

Rodolphus' lips curved in a smirk, bearing his teeth. "From what I've heard, I am hardly likely to corrupt your daughter." Mulling over the words, Rodolphus nodded, yet did not look as satisfied as he had the beginning of the evening. "Fine," he muttered. "A year, but up until that time, Bellatrix will see no man but me." Cygnus Black tried to protest on behalf of his daughter's modesty, but was cut off. "Understood, Mr Black?"

Frowning, Cygnus Black nodded, looking as displeased at the Lestrange brothers. Reluctantly, he offered his hand, by which Rodolphus took. "Understood."


	2. Chapter One: Playing Dolls

Chapter One – Playing Dolls.

Pale legs jutted out from beneath the soft, black silk of the bed sheets, the ebony colour causing the alabaster skin to look luminous in contrast. A slight, slim frame lay suspended, slender elbows supporting the body of Bellatrix Black, thick falls of wavy black hair cascading down her back, melding with the rich dark silk until it was unclear to tell the difference between the two.

Dark eyes bore into the brilliant blue that gaze unseeingly up above her, Bella's diminutive finger running along the artificial golden glow of skin; until she reached a soft locks of honeyed blonde hair. Slowly, Bella's finger twirled around one perfect strand, watching as a few hairs gave away to the power beneath her touch. Tugging a little more forcefully, Bella watched in relish as a collection of tresses fell, gently floating towards the waiting silk below, gleaming against the small crack of sunlight that dared to seep through the closed curtains of Bella's room.

Toying with another strand of hair, dark hungry eyes sought up towards the face, one that remained pleasant mask, despite the torture it was enduring, longing for the doll to scream. But instead, Bellatrix willed herself to pretend that the doll was merely under an enchantment, that she was cursed to silence, suffering mutely as lock after lock of hair fell from her head onto black silk. She was screaming on the inside, yet was doomed to remain passive as she underwent such extreme tortures, marring her flawless beauty. Satisfied by this excuse, Bella gave another tug, one more forceful than the others, a slow, luxurious smile curling at Bella's lips.

Distantly, there was the sound of approaching footsteps, ones that Bellatrix chose to ignore, willing for the person to go away. But the soft steps stopped outside of Bella's bedroom door, a small, hesitant knock echoing through the now still room. Chew on her bottom lip, Bella contemplated the thought of feigning absence in hopes that she would be left alone. Yet, when the small, precise knock came again, it was accompanied by insistent voice on the other end. "I know you're in there Bella,"

From the other side of the imposing oak door, Narcissa Black's voice sounded thin, high. With a frustrated sigh, Bellatrix gave one last longing look towards the doll, before dumping her on the black under sheets, where she would remain until discovered by some unsuspecting house elf. Rolling over, Bella wrapped the black sheet around her bare frame, her feet silently padding towards the door.

Blue eyes peered worriedly up at her eighteen-year-old sister, long white blonde hair falling around a small angular face. Not unlike the doll's, Bella mused, crossing her arms and leaning against the frame. "What do you want?" she asked, irritated, a scowl setting into her pale features. Cautiously, Bella peered out into the hall, half expecting their mother to appear around the corner, the formidable Druella Black armed and ready to extract her daughter from the dark enclave of her bedroom. When she was satisfied that the landing was empty, Bella turned towards her youngest sister, nodding towards the shrouded room. "Come on," she muttered reluctantly, closing the door behind Narcissa.

Fifteen-year-old Narcissa Black looked out of place amongst the shadows and clutter of Bellatix's room. The white of her hair and skin glowed with their own pale inner light, blue eyes seeming too wide, giving the false pretence of innocence that made Bella feel perverse for locking such a thing away in such a dreary and morose room. Eying the scattered array of clothes, make-up, books, empty bottles and cigarette ends, Narcissa's small nose screwed up in distaste. "It's three in the afternoon," she remarked, blue gaze flickering towards the drawn curtains. Bella merely shrugged absently as she searched her cluttered vanity, looking in various glass and silver boxes, opening and closing draws. "And why does it smell like something died in here?" Narcissa continued, regarding the various heaps of half drunk bottles of wine and firewhiskey, where some clumps of unknown substances floated ominously.

"That's because something did, Cissy." Bellatrix pulled out a crumpled packet of cigarettes with a triumph look on her face, long slender fingers eagerly extracting one and placing it between the parting of her full lips. Around the cigarette, she muttered. "But I forget what." With a flourish, Bella pulled out her wand from somewhere in the folds of her silken sheet dress, the tip glowing a bright orange as she touched it to the end of her cigarette. Seductive coils rose, whilst a heavy perfumed scent wafted around the room, its force causing Narcissa to sneeze. "What is in _that_?" she demanded, her voice harsh and low as if fearful of being heard. The eldest Black sister shrugged, taking another deep breath, enjoying the wondrous burn that pressed against her lungs before she expelled it, slow herbal rivets seeping out from her. Eyes closed, Bella swayed slightly, a distracted smile on her face. "I forget," she muttered, not looking bothered in the slightest. "Something good."

With a horrified look on her face, Narcissa shook her head, her gaze drifting over the room, trying not to be too awed by the sight of her sister artfully smoking, where her expression seemed intimate, scandalous. Piercing blue eyes caught sight of an abandoned figure laying on the bed, an arm outstretched, as if to plea with her for help. "Is that my doll?" Narcissa's voice was sharp, enough so that Bella peeked open one heavily lid in mild interest. Following Cissy's gaze, Bella to watched the helpless doll, now half bald and looking rather pathetic. "We were just playing," there was a mocking hint to Bella's voice, patronising. Turning towards the doll, Bella cooed. "Weren't we dolly?" for a moment, Narcissa thought that her sister was expecting a genuine answer from the pitiful doll, but onyx eyes turned sharply towards her.

"What is it you want anyway?" Bella demanded, inhaling another deep drag, as if drawing strength from the toxic white stick. Narcissa watched as her sister leaned against the wall, slender shoulders looked as frail as bird wings against the rich green of the walls, a petite white leg showing against the slit of the make-shift dress that Bella had wrapped around her small frame. Cissy watched as Bella blew out another cloud of smoke, her scowl less threatening than before. Taking a deep, putrid breath of air, the blonde Black Sister plunged in.

"Mother is asking for you – Mr Lestrange and his brother are downstairs - He's getting very impatient." Narcissa added in an after thought, as if to invoke some semblance of fear within her older sister. She watched as Bella took another long breath of smoke, before flicking her wrist in a sharp, almost sensuous movement, causing a dispel of ash to fall. A lazy smile flitted across Bellatix's features, a cold, calculating look in her dark eyes. "Is father downstairs?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Andromeda?" the tone of Bella's voice made Narcissa pause, eyeing her sister carefully. There was no change about her, she still looked like the small, skinny, dark haired girl Narcissa had grown up with. She was still Bellatrix, which didn't comfort Narcissa that way it should. "Yes," she said at last, "They're all in the parlour, waiting for you."

Bellatrix remained silent, her gaze thoughtful as she took another deep inhale of her cigarette, expelling the thick coils leisurely. Finally, Bella smiled, an almost unsettling smile that still could light up her features, bringing an unadulterated joy to her. "Cissy," she said, thought her tone did not suggest of any sort of Bella's pleasure. "You may go downstairs and inform Mr Lestrange that I am obliged to keep company with another for the afternoon and with such pressing matters as they are, I simply cannot see him today."

Bella watched, amused as a pale pink bloomed across Cissy's cheeks, her eyes widening in shock as she regarded her sister. "You want me to tell them that you are with another man?" she stammered, looking horrified. "But Bella – You can't…"

"Can't I?" Bellatrix challenged, stubbing out her cigarette, an expression of ire crossing her features. "Go on," Bella urged when Narcissa made no move to leave. "I'm sure you don't want o keep Mr Lestrange waiting." Bella watched her youngest sister leave her room with great reluctance, a troubled frown between her brows. Once she was safely out of sight, did Bella reach for another cigarette, her willowy hips swaying as she also made her way out of her room, shutting the door behind her.

Lighting her cigarette, Bella crossed the landing to lean over the banister, catching a glimpse of Narcissa's pale hair disappearing around the door of the parlour downstairs. With a smirk, Bella watched and waited for the chaos to descend.


End file.
